


Melancholia

by nostalgicgal



Category: SKAM (TV) RPF, WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, As we all know, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Character(s), Ratings may change, Slow Burn, There will be some added scenes, very slow because let's not forget the show it's based on, who am i kidding they will
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 07:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21370570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgicgal/pseuds/nostalgicgal
Summary: So seeing how I really relate to Robbe, I just figured I'd try to write this season fully from his perspective. Do I really need to explain why?There will be a lot of character study, mostly gonna stay in Robbe's head, but it will be strongly based on the actual series, probably will add some scenes, maybe some I wanted to see or some that I feel should have happened, but mostly just so it all makes sense.English is not my first language, but I've been living in an english speaking country for quite a while, so it all should be cool. There still might be some mistakes, mostly due to me being lazy or it being my first work in a loooong while, so please, be easy on me.I do appreciate all the comments so don't hold back.Enjoy the ride and take care!
Relationships: Robbe Ijzermans/Sander Driesen, Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Kudos: 15





	1. Acta est fabula. Plaudite!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fortunately he's not exactly afraid of showers, so it takes about a minute for him to just turn around, take off his clothes and get into the tub. And in the end he enjoys it. It wakes him up for a while, making him think of the wind in his hair, the feel of the careless laughter leaving his body and disappearing somewhere above him, maybe even in the clouds. He doesn't think of Noor sitting in front of him on the scooter, he thinks of someone warmer but faceless. He smiles, letting himself feel peaceful for a moment. 

** _12/10/2019_ **

** _Zaterdag 19:57_ **

He's always known the kitchen was quite big for the standards, but now it seems huge and strangely overwhelming. The lamps barely shedding any ligh at the desk, where he left the list from his mom. He looked through it noumerous times, but he still hasn't quite grasped the fact that all of the things pointed out in it were now his responsibility. Buying the food, paying the electricity bills, taking the rubbish bin out. He's used to doing all those things, every now and then. Not every day though. He's never had to keep track of the fridge getting empty or the bin getting overfilled. His mom's has been in charge of that for most of his life and now she was gone. She admitted herself to a psychiatric ward with only two-day notice. That could easily account for barely any food being left and missing bin bags in any house. But no, this one is his. 

He takes a blank piece of paper and starts writing something resembling a shopping list down. He still feels completely lost in this new situation, but he's also aware of being unable to live entirely disorganised. That's what he's been telling himself over the past few days: _you'll just have to learn. _And that's what he's repeating, over and over again, in his head, standing alone in his too big house. His mom's favourite radio station playing in the living room keeps him going somehow, reminding him of all the times they'd done this together, leaning over the table and laughing at one of the radio hosts' stupid comments, made between the songs. He hasn't paid too much attention to it then, but now he feels this strange ball rolling around in his stomach and throat, as if he's longing for it. He shakes the thoughts out of his head and proceeds to dress. After all, although it may be true, him missing his mom, he also feels a very strong need to impress her, so when she comes back, she wouldn't see any changes. Like she'd never even left.

With this motivation he grabs the list from the table, almost rushing to the door. 

And then he remembers. The party. The fucking party Jens and Moyo told him about this morning, both being overly excited as always, and trying to convince him he should be as well. It came back to him, stopping him in his tracks. It's shortly after 8pm so he would still have enough time to make it in time. He can always go shopping tomorrow morning or evening. He suddenly feels completely drained, thinking of all the things he **needs **to do or **should** be doing over the next few days. How long has it been exactly since he could just lay down in his bed with headphones on, without being bothered by the thoughts of all these new necessities. That's when it occurs to him. Parties are most definitely not one of his favourite avtivities right now, but numbing himself is a completely different story.

And that's exactly how he ends up sitting on a bus 5 minutes later, texting Jens to find out, where exactly they are supposed to meet and if he should bring anything with him. Surprisingly enough he really doesn't want to steal both weed and alcohol from his friends, already feeling bad for not attributing to buying the stash.

_20:29  
_

_should I buy anything? vodka? beers?  
_

_Jens: what the hell are you talking about, there's so much alcohol here _

_wait, you're already there?_

_Jens: yeah, I came early to help Jana out, but the bros are still on their way. when will you be here?_

_give me 5 minutes_

_Jens: cool, will wait for you outside_   
  


* * *

Just as he expected, the party is way too loud. Since he stepped through the door, he hasn't been able to make out anything people were saying, or even literally shouting at him. He feels kind of dissapointed because seeing Jana, not yet completely drunk off her ass, made him want to talk to her. He is forced to quit trying by Moyo and Aaron jumping at him, and screaming something about tight black dresses and so. He never pays attention anymore, because they're always going on about the same stuff. Knowing Jens really well, he is still sometimes surprised by how much time he's able to spend with them, actually engaging in the conversations. He himself don't mind their company but often catches himself thinking about things altogether different to their usual tune. But tonight he ows them big time for leaving them as the only suppliers, so he smiles at them and looks around the room for the cause of their excitment. Seeing the group of first year girls they were talking about, he quickly searches for something he considers pretty about them.

\- You see how short their dresses are... My god, I can almost see her ass.  
\- I like her hair - he interrupts Moyo, whih gets him a confused look in return.  
\- Her hair? You mean the fact it ends right above her butt?  
\- Well, yes, but I like the colour, it makes her look really bright - and he means it. There is something about the hair floating around her that maks her look really sunny and light. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to explain it to his friends, so he's more than glad when Jens suddenly reappears and suggests going upstairs. They leave the room, keeping closely together to avoid being dragged to the dancefloor by Jana or one of her friends, each drunker than the other. Not that he would ever judge them, his plans for the evening being what they were.

As soon as they reach the toilet, Moyo jumps into the bathtub, placing himself right in the middle. It's the most genius one of his tactics, as he once explained, sitting in a different tub, but with the same smug smile on his face. _It's about the turns, you see. The more stoned I get, the more I talk about girls and get distracted and then miss out on my turns. Sitting between you guys grants me all my turns and some of yours. _Knowing how little thought Moyo gave anything, it was quite impressive he was able to come up with something this complex. The worst part is that it gave him enough confidence to never feel the need to stop talking.  
\- Aaron, we forgot alcohol - he says after 10 minutes of praising himself and assuring Jens it will get him the perfect girl once.   
\- So what?   
\- Go get some. Will give you a perfect chance to maybe find a girl desperate enough to look at you for more than 2 seconds - it got him a short laugh from both the other boys and a fake one from Aaron, already picking himself up from his seat on the toilet.   
\- I will bring her back with me and fuck her right in front of all of yous - he says grinning at Moyo.  
\- As long as you bring the vodka with you, you can do the fuck you want, man - says Jens talking over a very exaggerated "Eeeeew!" from Moyo.   
\- What the fuck did you say that for, dude? You know he's capable of basically anything - says Robbe joining the conversation, although mostly to remind Moyo of his turn, pointing at the joint he still held between his fingers. Let's not forget why he's actually there.  
\- You for real? You know that not a single girl on this planet will look at him long enough for him to have a chance? - he laughs passing him the joint. Robbe just rolls his eyes at this remark, not knowing exactly why his friends always seem to have the need to diss Aaron. It's not like they're better, always commenting on girls but hardly ever talking to any. And again, he's the one to talk, coming to a party just to numb himself enough not to think about his mom as soon as he gets home. Maybe this time he'll actually be able to sleep through the whole night, not just lying there, thinking about how empty and quiet the house has become.   
With he next puff, he feels the uncomfortable burn at the back of his throat, so he instinctively reaches for the remanents of vodka they still have left. He feels himself exhaling deeply and he thinks he also let out a small _fuck_, but is not sure until he heard the guys laughing next to him.   
\- A lot of shit at home again? - asks Jens after a few seconds. He doesn't want to talk about it though, so he just gives him an ambivalent _something like that, _letting the guys move on to the next topic. He doesn't try to follow that process, only nodding or smiling from time to time, but thinks back to his mom istead. That's why he hates showing even the slightest frown in their presence, because he knows that as soons as someone asks, he's going to be stuck thinking about it all over again. It doesn't happen too often, seeing how Moyo is unable to pay enough attention to notice anything of the sort. If it was up to him every problem could be blamed on a girl, and all could be solved by one.   
\- I'm in love, guys - says Aaron grinning even wider than he has before. He hands them the booze and starts describing Amber, one of Jana's friends. It's met with another wave of jokes, about the girl this time, which unfortunately doesn't end with all of them laughing at Aaron's over-the-top attitude, but with Moyo talking about the girls that he thinks is actually attractive.  
\- No, dude, she has such a stupid face.  
\- Stupid? She is fucking hot, dude. Just looking at me like that, mouth open and immediate blowjob, man.  
\- What? - straighforwardness of this remark finally makes Robbe wake up and start paying attention.  
\- You wouldn't let her give you a blowjob?  
\- No... - he doesn't know why he hesitated, seeing how Jens so clearly disagrees with Moyo too.  
\- More into asses? Emma... - now Robbe's sure he'll regret saying anything at all, true or not. - Who do you want? - the question throws him off a bit. He's mostly used to Moyo telling him exactly what he wants, not actually asking, which could be seen as something quite nice for a change, but it actually leaves Robbe dumbstruck. What is he supposed to say, not knowing that himself?   
\- I don't know, I don't really have a type - is what he eventually settles for, but it's not satisfactory to anyone. He tries to think of a single thing he could use, of a girl he thought was pretty or even a picture...  
That's when the door opens, with a girl he hasn't seen before, standing in the entrance.  
\- I really need to... Can I? - she asks pointing at the toilet. She is pretty. He can tell that much. Short, dark hair, red lipstick, red dress. She looked like a person you could put in the middle of an art exhibition, and no one would question her being a part of it. That gives him an idea. She just involountary saved him from a quite inconvienient questioning, but he's sure it's not gonna stop there. The moment she leaves, the rest is gonna comment on her appearance and establish whether she's attractive or not, and end up asking his opinion as well. There's only one way that is going to leave him in control.  
\- My type? - he stirrs the conversation again - Dark hair. Maybe with a fringe. Tattoos on her arms. And like a sexy, beautiful, red dress that makes her small boobs look great. A bit like... ehm, what's her name. Natalie Portman, but a flemish version. Or dutch... - already standing in front of him, she suddenly steals his joint ordering him to stand up. He goes willingly and leans in before she kisses him. Her lips are very soft and taste of something sweetish. As always, he doesn't dislike it. He doesn't feel the need to run away from it. But it doesn't make him feel anything exceptional either. It feels more like a random physical activity, than something that could lead to anything enjoyable. He winces when she steps back, turning to leave. It doesn't take long before the boys begin to laugh and congratulate him. He really wishes he could be as proud of himself in this moment, but even the smudge of her lipstick, left on his lips, makes him feel inexclicably out of place. Nevertheless, he goes after her.

* * *

  
The next hour is a blur. He remembers finding Noor, finishing the joint together in the kitchen and then her dragging him to the dancefloor. From then on it's just been a lot of kissing, incoherent conversations with people he doesn't know, or has never spoken to before and more alcohol. He started to feel dizzy a while ago, but somehow he stopped himself from going too far. He's not sure he wants to anymore. There's something grounding and equally numbing in making out with Noor as it is in mixing all the substances available in the building, but in this case there's no consequences in the form of a hangover. It doesn't require too much effort either. It's kind of like walking, because people like being outdoors, or changing places more than they actually enjoy the activity in itself. Kissing Noor is like that. He doesn't even feel it when it's happening. It's making him feel numb and unaware of his surroundings.   
He's in the middle of the dancefloor, letting the music flow through him, when suddenly he hears raised voices around the room and the music stops. He looks around and sees a police officer standing near the entrance, probably searching for the host. Then, before he's able to react, there's Aaron in his viewing, putting something in his hand. He looks at the small bag, but when he realises what it contains, Aaron is gone.  
\- Go through the garage - he hears Noor's voice coming from somewhere close to him. He completely forgot about her presence and now feels weirdly conflicted about whether he should be listening to her or not. She hears his weak _what_ and continues to push him in the direction of the supposed garage. She murmurs something about meeting him up front and disappears. Seeing how the decision was basically made for him, he stumbles through the door, searching for his phone to lighten the room. He makes his way through the garbage, not really feeling like he has complete control over his feet, but trying nonetheless. He almost feels relieved when he gets outside, but another police officer stops him, making him think of all the possible outcomes, somehow all of them ending with legal cases. Not the best way to make your mom proud.  
He doesn't see her at first, but the sound of a scooter engine makes him look around. As soon as the police officer turns around, he's running.   
They make their way up town, laughing and taking pictures. He forgets for a moment, about how this night started, about what he's been doing with this girl earlier. In this moment, he's actually glad she's there, in front of him, laughing even louder than he is, and running red lights despite his protests. Right know that's freedom.

They reach an anonymous gate, with no windows or doors, only a solid white wall on both sides. She jumps off the scooter with an expression that could be decribed as a mischievous smile of some sort. He notices two simple white masks she takes out of her bag and she reaches a hand with one in his direction. He tries to give her a doubtful look, but she only rolls her eyes and throws a playful _Come, _already turning away towards the gate. He follows her again, thinking about how many times he's already done it since he met her.  
He tries not to flinch when she knocks on the gate in a very specific way. It reminds him of this one anarchist group of teenagers he's seen in some documentary. They used to set entire buildings on fire somewhere in South America. Fortunately in this case the person who opened the gate seems harmless. He steps inside, looking around, subconsciously making sure his surroundings are safe. They appear to be, so he takes the hand Noor is reaching out to him and lets himself be led towards one of the trucks standing along the wall. He still feels hesistant, not knowing exactly if he's meant to participate or watch, hoping for the latter. All questions disappear when she hands him a can of spray, shooting him a look he would rather not say no to. They climb a short ladder leading up a small scaffolding, making it easier to reach the cargo space. He must still look unsure because they lock eyes, Noor takes off his mask and gives him something he could interpret as reassuring kiss. 

* * *

When he finally gets home, a few hours later, he feels weirdly agitated, as if he's just run a 10 mile marathon, but in his head. He sees the list and the shopping bag left lying on the kitchen table. He already knows he's not going to be able to motivate himself the next morning, so he just folds the items together and puts them underneath his jacket he threw in the corner upon entering the flat. He almost gives up on showering but seeing the pile of dirty clothes on his desk chair, he decides to at least give his body a nicer smell. Besides, he knows it's all about the routine. It's what his mom used to say to him, when he didn't want to wash the dishes or fold his shirts. _No one likes doing these things, honey. That's why you have to make yourself do them a couple of times, then it just becomes a habit. It's like that with things you're afraid of as well. _Fortunately he's not exactly afraid of showers, so it takes about a minute for him to just turn around, take off his clothes and get into the tub. And in the end he enjoys it. It wakes him up for a while, making him think of the wind in his hair, the feel of the careless laughter leaving his body and disappearing somewhere above him, maybe even in the clouds. He doesn't think of Noor sitting in front of him on the scooter, he thinks of someone warmer but faceless. He smiles, letting himself feel peaceful for a moment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so that's the first baby and I hope you guys enjoy it, although I'm not quite satisfited with this one myself. I'm planning for the whole thing to be strictly Robbe's pov, but there will be a lot of added scenes, not only more detailed versions of the clip, like kind of the first chapter turned out to be.  
Sorry, for all the mistakes, I live in Scotland but English is not my first language and I mostly use the spoken form, so believe, writing this proves that I'm an idiot more to me than anyone else.  
I hope you enjoy the work and stay around for when the big things start happening!  
Cheerios!


	2. Aegri somnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's always been the quiet, calm and responsible one, both in the group and at home, but now suddenly he has all these memories of his mom screaming at his dad for not paying attention, or lecturing her about the simplest things, which makes him want to do the same to himself. He doesn't even notice when his thoughts become louder and louder, quickly turning into shouts.

**Zondag 09:51**  
  
  
When he was little, getting up was the easiest and most exciting part of the day. He used to jump out of the bed as soon as he'd heard clatter of the dishes in the kitchen. His mom would be there, making them eggs or toasts, humming under her nose, still dressed in her morning robe and barefoot. His dad would be sitting at the table, reading last night's newspaper or looking through documents he needed later at work. He'd usually be pretty focused, frowning or lifting one of his brows from time to time, but sometimes Robbe was able to catch him unconsciously smiling, freer part of his mind hearing his wife's song in the background. There was something undeniably peaceful that these memories carried with themselves, making him calmer and hopeful, whenever his mom would have one of her seizures or a bad panic attack, after his dad left them. It's been his coping mechanism, the most efficiently working one, up until now.   
Now he finds himself lying in bed, still feeling the remanents of a headache, he came back home with last night, struggling to move his legs. It's one of those mornings, when the thought of getting up makes him bury himself deeper under the covers, as if trying to melt into one with the mattress. He can audibly hear the silence coming from the rest of the flat, leaving him as the only motivational force in the building. He tries to look for something he had maybe planned for this day, something he might have forgotten. He's quite sure he is supposed to meet up with the boys later, the thought not really making him any more optimistic. He'd much rather just stay here, maybe rewatch the new season of Elite, the last two episodes being his favourites in the series... But no, he's meant to go grocery shopping. He's basically given up on the idea, throughout the night, being aware of how the mixture of alcohol and weed work on him. But now the body is not his problem, so he thinks about his mom always being unnecessarily grateful, after he'd surprise her with grabbing the groceries for dinner after school. Fortunately it's the much needed straw to make him move his legs over the edge of the bed, and before he realizes, he's standing in the kitchen, fully dresses, and with the shopping bag in his hand.   
  
He's lucky enough to be living a short walking distance away from a pretty cheap supermarket, otherwise he'd probably have to look for another one and commute, considering his current money situation. If someone had asked him, he most likely wouldn't even know how to use the buses, having been using his skateboard as the means of transport, as long as he can remember. Living this conviniently, it sometimes surprises him how many basic skills he is actually lacking.  
Upon entering the supermarket, he remembers about the holy rule of never using shopping carts, because they make you buy more things. He certainly can't afford that, so he decides to go for one of the smallest baskets. He's not convinced, but being honest with himself, he's never really sure of anything, so he just makes the decisions he thinks his mom would've made.   
He ends up slowly strolling through the alleys with products he doesn't even need, nor would ever. He enjoys the slow pace he'd never expect from an activity, it's taken him 2 hours to motivate himself to do. Nevertheless he finds himself looking around, actually listening to the song playing from the speakers above. He thinks it's Mick Jagger, but what was the name called... He's so bad with names, he cannot even sometimes remember the members of his favourite band, Radiohead. Thom Yorke, Ed O'Brien, Jack.... No, Johnny...

_Hear me ringing big bell tolls  
__Hear me singing soft and low  
_I've _been begging on my knees  
__I've been kicking, help me please_

He wouldn't be honest if he said he's good at English. He's not bad either, but he would label himself as mediocre. Nonetheless, he feels strangely drawn to the song, not really understanding the lyrics, but humming along and moving his feet more to the sides, prolonging the movements, to make it look like some sort of a primitive dance. He sometimes wishes he'd be more bold, so he could just start jumping around and screaming his lungs out, whenever he feels like it. Instead he settles for tapping his fingers on the basket handle and whistling lowly, even so grinning to himself.  
  
  


* * *

In the end he's on his way to the skatepark, letting himself feel the cooler autumn breeze, getting under his shirt in the form of pleasant goosebumps. Almost reaching the boys, sitting on their usual bench, he feels his phone ringing in his hand. He swallows deeply, as he always does, whenever he has to speak to his mom. Most of the times he powers through it, but this once he decides to call her back later, knowing it'd affect him in a way Jens would surely notice.   
They ask him about last night and Noor, but he's prepared, having thought about what he'd tell them before going to bed last night, so he just simles nonchalantly, nodding in response to their question whether he's slept with her. He's used to lying to them by now, after making up so many stories about hooking up with random girls at a few of the parties they've gone to last year, when in reality he only kissed some of them, and barely talked to the rest. They would never leave him alone if he hadn't though, so he doesn't let that stay on his mind for too long.   
But then, his mom is calling him again. Seeing how Moyo and Jens are either way too occupied with the stash he's just given them back, he picks up the phone while taking a few steps towards the park, putting a safe enough distance between this world and the one he's about to deal with.  
\- Robbe? Thank god you answered - he can hear his mom walking around the room, fidgeting - Did something happen? I get so worried when you don't pick up the phone.  
\- No, no, I'm just chilling with Jens and the others, all right? - he can't help feeling a bit annoyed, being through it so many times before.   
\- Ok, ok, I'm sorry, are you having fun? Do you remember you promised to come visit me? - he does, but it doesn't make his stomach stop from twisting. He hasn't gone to the hospital yet and he's been dreading the day it happens, but he can't lie now.  
\- Yeah, yeah, I'll be there.  
After that he hangs up and goes back to join the boys. Something must've changed in his expression, because he can feel Jens leaning closer to him.  
\- Everything ok?  
\- My mom keeps freaking out lately, and yesterday she... - his words get lost in an excited exclamation from Moyo. He sees three girls walking not so far from them and the next thing he knows is guys standing up from the bench, leaving him with a pack of tabacco in one hand. He can't help it. He knows himself, he always ignores situations like, brushing it off and telling himself they'll finish the conversation later. However this time he's furious. He throws the package on the bench, skating away not knowing exactly what's next.  
He doesn't stop for long enough to feel like an hour or more, being torn away from his thoughts by a crowd of tourists admiring Grote Markt. He circles around them, but after bumping into at least three people, he settles for walking. The air in the city centre is warmer, which makes him feel like it's summer all over again and brings back the loneliness he felt then. He stops for a few deep, but ragged breaths, not being able to control the lump building in his throat. He has no idea where to go, not wanting to go back to the boys and home not even crossing his mind. He can hear the laughter of the crowd around him, and after a few moments it's echoing in his head, making him deaf to any resonable thoughts.

* * *

_**Maandag 7:42  
  
  
**_ For the first time in a while he feels glad to have to go to school. He's certain that if it wasn't for something this compulsory, he'd stay in bed the entire day, maybe not even watching some plotless tv show, but just playing the same albums on repeat. He hasn't felt this numb in a while and being woken up by a phone call from his dad didn't help in the slightest. He ignored all three that have already happened this morning and he's planning to do the same, if any were to occur later. He's not quite sure how his dad found out about mom admitting herself to the hospital, but he does know that he did. He can feel it deep in his bones and the reaccuring lump in his throat is there to confirm it. He doesn't even bother making breakfast, only eating leftover pasta from the dinner he managed to cook for himself yesterday. It's fortunate enough that all those things happened after he'd gotten the groceries, otherwise he'd be most likely starving by now. He dreads looking at the clock, not really feeling ready to be confronted with the reality outside of his home just yet. After barely eating anything, he leaves, making sure to lock the door and turn in the right direction, knowing better than to trust himself in a state like that.  
  
_**15:58**  
  
_  
He follows Jens out of the school, anxiously twisting the phone in his hands, almost hearing it ring for what would be an eighth time, since he left home this morning. He feels paranoid enough to forget that Noor promised to pick him up after school, so he finds himself involuntary jumping upon feeling her tight grip around his shoulders. She immediately starts kissing him and again, he's not sure if he minds. Her lips are soft and inviting, but he can't fight the numbing effect they have on him, so he almost misses Jens leaving, only managing to say a quick _see you later _in response. He can't focus either when she starts showing him the pictures of the graffiti from Saturday, almost as if he suddenly became blind, and the only things his brain is able to register are small pecks on the cheek Noor continues to give him, and the phone in his pocket, this time actually ringing. It's his dad again and this time he feels like he's had enough, so he quickly picks it up, apologizing to the girl in the process.  
\- Yes?  
\- You haven't answered my phone calls since the morning - he flinches hearing his father's voice, as condescending as he remembers it.  
\- So what?  
\- I've heard about your mom and you living alone now and you can't...  
\- I can manage myself, ok? - he's perfectly aware of not having enough patience to deal with this right now, so he's not surprised when he feels his voice shaking.  
\- I just thought I'd check on you, make sure you don't want to come here - even though his dad is trying to sound calm, he can hear superiority in his tone.  
\- And now you are suddenly worried about me or what?   
\- Well from what I can hear I should be...  
\- I told you I can manage myself! - he hungs up the phone, feeling like kicking the wall and screaming at the nearest person to him. He sees Noor coming up to him, but he's not capable of looking at her, only hearing the roaring in his ears, as if all the blood from his body suddenly gathered in the back of his head, in something resembling a storm. He doesn't feel his legs when he starts walking away, snarling the first thing that comes to his mind back at her, not wanting to deal with two games at the same time. He feels like a little child, not being able to control his emotions like that. He's always been the quiet, calm and responsible one, both in the group and at home, but now suddenly he has all these memories of his mom screaming at his dad for not paying attention, or lecturing her about the simplest things, which makes him want to do the same to himself. He doesn't even notice when his thoughts become louder and louder, quickly turning into shouts. It's not long before he starts feeling dizzy and almost nauseous, so he sits down on the nearest bench, breathing and talking himself down, music from his headphones not quite reaching him yet.   
  
After a while he stands up and starts walking again, feeling exhausted and drained. His thoughts go back to his mom for a second, probably still waiting for him, completely alone in the hospital, because he's the only one who'd visit. In this exact moment he hears his phone ringing again, subcosciously hoping it's her. He doesn't have to time to feel disappointed or annoyed, because there's suddenly a ball hitting his shoulders and the next thing he sees is Jens, running up to him. He hungs up the phone again, not intending to pick it up, even if he hasn't gotten distracted.   
\- What's wrong? - it's only the second time Jens is asking this question after his mom left, but he feels like he's just heard it for the hundredth. However, the truth is, he hasn't told him anything about what happened and now he might have to.  
\- Do you remember when you told me I could always stay over at your if it's necessary? It's necessary now, I think.   
\- What happened?  
\- My mother has been comitted to a mental health institution.   
\- Fuck... - Jens is trying, he can see he's trying. He suddenly realizes that maybe he deserves the whole truth, remembering how he's been there for him at the beginning, when his dad left.   
\- Yeah... It was getting worse and worse, it drove me crazy. I couldn't handle it any longer - it feels really good to finally be honest, not just talking to himself in his head.  
\- It's not like you can do much about it.  
\- No, that's true, but... - is it though? He still sometimes feel like he could storm into the hospital and save his mom, but probably the only thing he has left is focusing on the brighter side, which surprisingly exists, so he repeats it again - She admitted herself, so that's already a good sign.  
\- And for how long?  
\- I don't know. For now it's going to be a week, but the doctor said it could be much longer.  
\- Wouldn't it be better if you... - he feels like he's just been punched in the guts.  
\- No, that's really not possible.  
\- I know, but...  
\- It's not going to happen, Jens. Ok? - he really doesn't like losing his temper like that, even less with Jens, who hasn't really seen him do that in a long time. Looking back at his friend, he feels like he should explain himself somehow, make it make sense, but he's not ready for that, so he just goes for the simplest excuse - I really can't go live with him. Do you even know where that guy is living now? If I move there, it will take me longer to get to school, than I would be fucking at school!  
\- Chill, it's ok - he hasn't even noticed raising his voice, nor the breathlessness that he can now feel burning in his throat.   
\- Sorry.  
\- Hey bitchboys, are you going to keep chatting or are you gonna come play football? - he's not surprised to hear Moyo screaming from the field.  
\- We're coming!   
He feels Jens waiting for him to say something else, but he can't think of anything that would make sense in the moment, especially after lashing out like he just did. He looks up at his friend still standing there and murmurs a weak _sorry, _which comes out sounding way more guiltily than he originally intended. He feels sadness come back to him consequent to Jens leaving to join the rest. Normally, he would follow him straigh away, already taking off his jacket and cheering himself on, but today he does it only because he fears too much, that as soon as he leaves, he's going to hear the phone ringing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I'm way prouder of this chapter than the first one, hope you lot enjoy it too. I'm not gonna be able to post anything over the next few days unfortunately, I'm going away to Estonia, so what I manage to write there I'll probably post in about a week.   
At first I thought I'd be able to fit each episode into one chapter, now it looks like I'm gonna need 3 chapters per episode or smth, because I can't stand the look of chapters over 4k long...   
Ok, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you back in a week!


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